


bonjour

by eightlyn



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Craquaria - Freeform, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, but still an AU lol, nonAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:58:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightlyn/pseuds/eightlyn
Summary: A soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, and Cracker and Aquaria have never met in NY.





	bonjour

**Author's Note:**

> this is also posted on my tumblr, but i'm posting it here for anyone who doesn't use the site~

The words on his wrist were very fitting, he thought. He had spent thirty three years of his life looking at them and wondering who would say them and when. The more time that passed, the more accurate they became.

In small black cursive, right on the side of his wrist, were the words

**_bonjour sorry to keep you waiting_ **

It was incredibly ironic. And it drove him fucking nuts.

People who saw his mark for the first time would always make the same joke; and he himself made it in his early adulthood. But he didn’t find it funny anymore. He found it heartbreaking, waiting and waiting for someone to come into his life with the most fitting opening line imaginable.

It was beginning to feel like the universe was playing a joke him, one he was no longer laughing at.

Whoever said these words was right. They were certainly keeping him waiting. Every year, every birthday he thought maybe this would be it. But after watching as all his friends met their soulmates in their twenties, or even before that, he was beginning to think he was broken. Maybe his was a mistake. Or maybe he had heard it in passing, or while drunk, and missed them. Maybe he fucked up and missed his chance. Or maybe he just didn’t have one.

By his thirtieth birthday he made the decision to stop caring. It was easier said than done, but as the saying goes: fake it ‘til you make it. It was hard but he eventually made it, no longer wondering how old he would be when he was finally awarded the slice of happiness that everyone else seemed to have.

Things changed when he met Bob and started doing drag. He finally had something that made him happy and was entirely his, something he could be proud of.

Drag became his life and he dedicated all his time and hard work to perfecting what he did. And he was good at it. Good enough to make it to the top of the drag scene in New York, and then, two years after Bob won Drag Race, make it onto the show himself.

This was what mattered to him now. This was what was important. It was time for him to prove that he wasn’t second rate; that he deserved all the recognition he had acquired in New York, and that now he deserved even more.

He counted the bodies in the room. Thirteen. That seemed like a good number. It had been a couple of minutes since Vanessa entered. Did that mean this was everyone? Excitement and fear were battling in his body, and he wasn’t sure which was winning. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to start the competition, the anticipation was killing him.

Suddenly a voice broke through all the noise.

“ _Bonjour_!”

Ice flooded his veins, his body freezing right along with it. Every muscle locked into place as the air escaped his lungs in one painful gasp. All previous thoughts of competition melted away.

Time seemed to stop as he watched a tall, confident stranger clad head to toe in red strut into the room. The angle made it hard to get a look at his face as he posed for the cameras, but he could already tell this person was stunningly beautiful.

His paralyzed brain barely had time to wonder if the next words out of this stranger’s mouth would be the ones printed on his skin, the ones he’d read over and over again. Before he could even fully think of the words, they were filling the air.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

His heart pulsed, shaking him to his core. This was it. It was happening, finally, after all those years. All the time spent alone and wondering how, why, and when he’d hear these words. All the time fantasying about who would say them, what they would be like, look like, love like.  All the time daydreaming of the different possibilities, the different scenarios of this very moment.

He never imagined it would be like this.

Every noise in the room faded when the stranger turned to the group and walked forward. He was only aware of every movement this person made, seemingly walking towards him in slow motion. Everything about him was stunning; his face, his smile, his poise, body, clothes, style, everything. The group of girls chattering and all the film crew washed into the background. Nothing else mattered.

He was captivated, but as the beautiful stranger got closer to him, his stomach began to knot up. His soulmate was this…kid? That couldn’t be right. He was so young! He couldn’t have been more than 21. No wonder it took him so long to find him. When he was spending his early twenties alone and sad, this boy would have been ten years old at the most.

He backed into the wall numbly, letting him walk by and greet the other girls. He struggled to process everything that had transpired in the last few minutes. Sweat was turning cold on his body as his mind tried to cope with this new discovery. He had no idea what to do, how to act. It didn’t help that he knew they were being filmed. What would even be appropriate to do in this situation?

An answer had yet to surface when the beautiful stranger turned to him. He had finished introducing himself to the others and was looking at him expectantly. He flashed a smug grin, eyebrows lifting. “And you?”

His thoughts were racing and he couldn’t find the courage to face him yet. What would he say? Better yet, what _does_ he say? Apparently the only one who knew was this boy, who would no doubt have those words somewhere marking his skin.

Deep, in the back of his mind he hoped it wasn’t something stupid.

Beautiful eyes stared at him, looking a little perplexed and amused. Cracker understood why; he was sure he looked like a moron standing and staring with his mouth slightly parted. The boy tried again, “Aren’t you going to tell me who you are?”

Heat swept up his neck and he knew he had to say something. He couldn’t stop the astonished words from slipping out of his mouth. “I- I… I… Cracker.” He instantly cringed. Well, so much for that.

It took a second, but a flash of recognition flashed on the boy’s features. His eyes drifted down to his wrist, to the same spot as his own mark.

His gaze followed suit, just barely making out the words that had just tumbled out of his mouth on the skin there. Three of the letter ‘I’, followed by the word cracker.

**_i i i cracker_ **

Embarrassment and amusement swirled inside his body. This poor kid. He had to live his whole life with _that_ on his wrist.

A short, stiff laugh escaped his lips. The stranger looked back up at him, confusion and shock reading clearly on his face. “I am so sorry,” he managed before laughing again. The nerves rocking through his body was making the laughter worse. He was sure he sounded nothing short of insane.

The other girls were watching in pure bewilderment, not understanding what the hell was happening. They were mumbling to themselves but Cracker could hear none of it.

The stranger finally grinned, realization replacing the confusion on his face. It was followed by a touch of what looked like relief. “Oh, so you’re the one. You did this to me.” He tried to sound smug as he gestured to his wrist, but Cracker could see the excitement threatening to burst from his smile.

His hands grabbed Cracker’s arm, bringing it up closer to inspect the mark. “Huh,” he said, eyes carefully tracing the words. “That’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

Pure joy bubbled up inside of him, the relief and excitement were overwhelming. All the times he hated hearing that same sentiment from friends or strangers no longer meant anything. He couldn’t stop the laugh. He didn’t want to. “You’re fucking telling me.”

Meanwhile, Yuhua had had enough of watching this unfold with no explanation and shouted, “Excuse me, ladies! Someone want to fill us in on the joke?!”

“What is happening over there?” Monet added, sounding amused and curious.

Cracker didn’t care. He was lost, staring into this stranger’s eyes, head swimming.

The stranger however, wasn’t as shy. He turned around, still holding onto his wrist. He lifted it up, as if it were a trophy he had just won. Excitement was evident in his voice as he exclaimed, “I think I found my husband!”

The girls were silent for only a moment as they tried to make sense of this. But all at once noise exploded and everyone was animatedly talking; how exciting it was to find your soulmate on RuPaul’s Drag Race, on TV at all; how this would make for one hell of an opening episode plot twist; how entertaining it would be to watch their relationship unfold; how lucky they were.

Cracker barely listened, his head was filled with his own thoughts about the whole situation.

It was going to be interesting, getting to know yet competing against his soulmate all at the same time. Thirty three years of waiting for his soulmate, seven years of waiting to get on Drag Race, and now here they both were, correlating together.

It was nerve wracking, but he had spent so long waiting for the both of them. He was beyond ready.

The stranger- his soulmate- turned to look at him again, an adorably confused expression on his face. “Wait, did you just say your name was _Cracker_?” 


End file.
